Over the Wall Again
by aangismyhomie
Summary: Five years have passed since Wirt's defeat of The Beast, and Beatrice has never forgotten him since, using his bravery as inspiration to change her own life. But now at the age of twenty she is a spinster in her world and her parents demand she marry. A new adventure of a different kind begins when an injured Wirt appears on her side of the wall once more. M for adult material.
1. Chapter 1

**Over the Wall Again (Wirt/Beatrice) Part 1**

 **This is a story I had previously posted on Tumblr, but I've decided to move it here and give it a makeover. I'm much happier with it now, and I hope new and old readers will equally enjoy this. I've added more details about Beatrice and her family, how they got to where they are in this fic (which takes place five years after the show. Since Wirt and Beatrice seemed to be peers, I have them both at 20 now, which means OTGW took place when they were fifteen. I do not own Over the Garden Wall. There will be quite a few OC's in this fic in the form of Beatrice's family. Since that tree was completely filled with birds I'm going with 12 siblings, and rather than The Unknown being purgatory I'm going with the alternate universe theory as it fits my story better. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to drop me a review!**

Beatrice rolled over for what felt like, and probably was, the hundredth time that night. She let out another sigh, regarding her deeply sleeping younger sisters with a bit of envy. They wouldn't have to worry about…ugh, _marriage_ , yet like she currently was. Flopping over onto her back, she wondered how Roberta and Patience, her older sisters, had been so composed when her parents had gone through the whole courtship process with them. Then again, _they_ were perfect ladies who had always loved the idea of maintaining a household and having a husband beside them and going through pregnancy after pregnancy. Beatrice had always preferred playing with her brothers (when they weren't being stupid) and reading books about far off places and exploring the very outside of the woods with her dog. The idea of marriage terrified her.

She played with the ends of her braided hair. Maybe Roberta and Patience had been more…sheltered? For one, they actually preferred staying inside and doing needlepoint and cooking and learning about the importance of household décor and how to be wives. Additionally, Beatrice's family didn't move away from their (now quite large) homestead often, aside from rare trips to the closest neighboring village for festivals on holidays, and in the past five years the household staff they'd acquired went on shopping trips every two weeks. Her parents knew the Unknown was a dangerous place, everyone living in and around it knew how easy it was to get lost. Everyone who lived within a hundred miles of it knew that. So, aside from their time as bluebirds, her siblings had never spent any significant amount of time in the woods. Beatrice had always been fascinated with the place, and when she was younger she would always volunteer to go with her mother and father to pick rosehips from a bush just a few feet within the borders of the woods with her mother and father. But that was always during the day, and her father always brought an axe with him.

And even when they'd turned into bluebirds, the rest of her family had spent all of their time living in a tree. She was the only one who'd seen adventure, who'd met other people, who knew what meeting a boy her age was like, how feelings could come out of nowhere and nag you even years after the object of your affections had gone. Roberta and Patience had never gotten to have…crushes, like that. They'd met a few boys on the day of their debuts and picked the least offensive one with the hope feelings would develop after the marriage papers were signed. That's how everyone in her family did it, and everyone in the village too, from what her parents had led her to believe.

And now that her father had rebuilt the mill and hired a staff of men to run it with him, they had been able to produce flour faster, which means more and more was sold, and now her house had been expanded to these gigantic proportions and men would throw themselves at the women in her family. Her mother _had_ been of noble birth before marrying her father; resulting in her grandparents disowning her for 'lowering herself', and now that they'd make a significant amount of money with the mill and sent Beatrice's older brother Allard to college to pursue medicine, suddenly her grandparents loved them and invited them to big parties and reinstituted her mother's title. Which frankly, was absolutely disgusting to Beatrice. Now her mother was a Lady and her father a Businessman, instead of simply a Miller and his Wife like they'd been before.

Throwing off her blankets, she finally decided to take a walk in the garden to just clear her mind of titles and marriage prospects and her feelings for another that had never gone away. She knew her parents wouldn't approve, but she needed to quiet her worries with a distraction somehow before she had a nervous breakdown. Quietly, she crept by her sisters one by one. Lucinda, Charity, and Beryl's sleeping forms remained motionless, and then Beatrice hit the creaky floorboard with her big toe and let out a whisper of a curse when she heard Anna, the sister closest to her in proximity, stir from her sleep.

"Bea?" She sat up rubbing the sleep from one of her eyes. Beatrice hushed her promptly.

"Shhh, Anna, I'm just getting a drink." She lied smoothly. The ten year old nodded and lay back down, muttering,

"If you're going for a walk again, take Hercules with you." Beatrice rolled her eyes before turning to give Anna a smile and a loving pat on the head.

"I will, Anna. Promise." She whispered, leaving the room then to avoid waking up any more of her sisters.

Beatrice wandered the halls of her home as quietly as she could, stopping in the hall closet for a lantern and the supplies to light it, which she would do once she got outside. Keeping her promise to Anna, she roused her dog Hercules from his place by the back door, rubbing his ears when he let out a doggish groan. Breathing a sigh through his nose, Hercules stood up and yawned, ready to take his place at the side of his master. She opened the door with a gentle hand, letting the night air in to tussle by the little red whisps of hair loose around her ears.

Smiling, she loosened the blue length of ribbon around the end of her braid, letting her locks unwind and flow freely. She reveled in the feeling of the cool stones of the garden path against her feet, Hercules trotting beside her with an occasional affectionate nuzzle to her hand. She passed the many fountains and clusters of flowers, finding no peace in them. Even after five years, they didn't feel like a part of her home. she missed the tiny creek that'd been filled in to build the garden. She breathed through a flutter of anxiousness in her chest at the idea of being caught, and crossed the small field in the front of her homestead to sit at the edge of the woods, where her feelings could flow freely. But of course, as she sat down she thought of Wirt and their journey together.

Here, here was where she felt closest to him. She let out a long sigh. Five years, and Wirt was still in her heart, the way he'd grown and proven himself as a hero. It was he who had shown her just how brave and loving a person could be despite their flaws, how important it was to do right by others. He'd changed her entire perspective and as he'd grown as a person, so had she.

Beatrice had hung on to trivial annoyances before. They were her way of avoiding deeper conflict, they always had been. She was an expert at coming up with excuses to skirt around people. She had always thought that was the best way to go through life, avoid and hide from whatever problem she was facing through a mask of sarcasm and purposefully rude remarks so she would be left alone. And Wirt…he had taken that frightened world of hers and blown it to pieces.

Trivial things were just that, Wirt had proven when he tossed away his own moodiness for his brother's devotion. When he'd ripped Greg from those roots and held him close…Beatrice had known that her views had changed. Wirt was almost a role model to her now. She was learning as best she could to love those around her and take interest in her siblings instead of hiding from them. She could say with certainty now that she truly loved her family, and it was all thanks to that messy haired hero.

The hero she could never have. Who was gone forever. He'd never even gotten to see her as she really was. He'd never even gotten to know what he'd done to her, how he'd changed her for the better. She wondered about him every day, what he looked like, what he could have been doing. Did he ever think of her? They'd spent quite a bit of time together traveling, and by the end of that journey she knew they had become good friends. Did he still have messy hair? Was he still skinny? She'd considered his appearance quite a bit from her perspective as a bird and had always suspected he would grow to be a handsome man. But these thoughts didn't have any real worth in thinking them, did they? He was in his world now, probably happy with his-

"Sara….ugh." She heard a muttering straight ahead of her, almost a groaning, coming from the woods. "I let her…and now I'm here again-" There was a scream of pain that had startled Beatrice into standing.

"Who's there?!" Beatrice shot to her feet, raising her lantern. Hercules growled beside her, ready to protect her. There was no way she was hearing what she was hearing. There was no way that familiar, but slightly deepened voice that seemed mere yards away from her belonged to him.

"Who- is someone there?" She could see a figure now, slumping towards her. Taller than she was, slim build…messy hair. Definitely messy hair.

"I, I have a weapon. St-stay away!" She backed up further, but the shadow only moved towards her, letting out another cry of distress. Oh, please let it not be him. Not in so much pain.

"No, I need help, please! I'm lost, and I…" The figure coughed and fell on all fours, but persisted in crawling towards her. "Please…" the lantern just barely illuminated his face as he was still about six feet away, his dark eyes and nut brown hair and his slightly large nose. Was it truly him?

"No. No no no, that's not you, my mind is playing tricks on me." She insisted as the figure crawled onto the grass in front of her, out of the woods but right back into her life. The boy looked up, and she could see him with complete clarity in the lantern's light. It was him, aged but familiar. His face broader, but still HIS. Oh, he'd finally grown into his ears. Beatrice was breathing fast, leaning down to look at him closer. He squinted. He was soaked to the bone, and looked like he was shaking with cold.

"You…voice...do I know you…?" He asked, struggling to sit back up. He was clearly dazed; she was surprised he'd gotten this far from…wherever he'd come from. Beatrice surprised herself with a laugh before turning to her dog. _It was Wirt!_

"Hercules, go wake everyone up, we need help. Back to the house, go!" She gestured wildly and her faithful companion raced off towards the mansion, barking wildly. She turned back to the boy in the grass, stooping down to drape his wet arm over her shoulders to help him stand, noting that one of his legs seemed to have become dead weight. She winced when his arm caught her hair at an awkward angle, but hoisted him up closer to herself nonetheless as she did her best to hold him steady the closer they came to her house.

"Who…." He leaned on her heavily, his breath puffing against her face. She simply smiled as she saw the lights brightening the house ahead of them, and her mother rushing towards them, flustered and holding her nightcap to her head.

"Wirt, you beautiful mistake of nature." She squeezed his side. "I've got you."

"Beatrice…" He mumbled before giving another cough.

"Right-o, you big pushover." Her cheeks were already sore from smiling. "Let's get you inside."

 **And that's the new and improved first chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here we are with chapter two! Thanks for the review and the couple of follows I got on the first chapter, I'm really glad that someone out there is enjoying this :)**

Everything was such a blur of spiraling woozy atmosphere and horrible lurching pain all around, drawing tears and shudders from him only to be silenced by an overwhelming relief when the wooziness returned to him, fed to him on a spoon. Wirt remembered a stout motherly silhouette speaking in whispered, worried tones to a man in a dark suit and occasionally hovering by his bed. A vague recollection of a blinding pain that made his world explode into shattered pieces behind his eyes and the sweet comfort of a cool cloth wiped over his forehead again and again. More tight woozy feelings from the spoon again that would silence his pain time to time

But mostly he remembered her voice, Beatrice's voice, he knew it for sure. Though he couldn't see her, he caught pieces of her voice here and there during his fever and dizzying relief. Her murmers of reassurance ("Just hang in there, I've got the medicine, shhh….") a muted sort of annoyance ("Of course you couldn't do anything halfway, Wirt. Of course not, you big dork. You just HAD to worry me to death."), and sometimes, something he thought could even be affection ("Oh, Wirt….please be okay."). He'd heard that voice in his dreams for five years, its high sweet pitch contrasting with its brash words in the loveliest way that always made him laugh, or bristle, or simply wonder. He'd wondered quite a bit about Beatrice since he'd left the Unknown, but now he didn't know if he was in a dream or not. His dreams had always been clearer, hadn't they? And why did everything hurt? What was he being fed that made the world spin, and why did he crave it so strongly? Why was he so hot but also so cold?

But all at once, after the extremes of heat and cold had left him, he opened his eyes and was startled He saw her sitting by the window with an initially frightening clarity. He could feel himself breathing, feel the aching sharp soreness in his leg, and when he gently reached a hand up to comb through his hair he did find a bruising welt there he would have to be careful of. This was different from the other times he'd 'seen' her. This was not a daydream, not a random thought. The sun was peeking through the transluscent white curtains, highighitng the firey tones in her hair and shining through the pure bright blue of her eyes. She was looking out to what seemed like a garden? He didn't want to strain his eyes for fear of upsetting his head wound, for all he knew he'd been concussed. But it was definitely some place with a lot of bushes. She looked tired, her hair a bit askew and the tie of her apron droopy. She was a bit slumped, as if a great weight rested on her shoulders.

"Beatrice…?" He rasped before coughing. His throat and mouth felt horribly dry, and his head heavy when he tried to lift it. Beatrice jolted at his whisper, turning to him with worry creasing her brow and rushed to his side. She brushed her hand tenderly over his forehead as she crouched down closer to him, grateful for his cool skin beneath her fingers.

"Wirt! Are you in pain?" She asked before looking down towards his legs, relieved to see they were still in the position her brother had set them in and had not been jostled. "Thank goodness your fever broke, I can't believe you had to break your leg AND get one heck of a fever all at once. And the bump on your head, too? I mean, geez, it's nice to see you and all but something tells me you could have planned a better entrance." She straightened up and smiled, her hands on her hips and her eyes sparkling with her relief. Wirt tried swallowing again but found himself coughing once more.

"Water, please." He rasped, wishing he could ask her properly. She raised an eyebrow, strangely confused by his request.

"For what? Are you overheated?" She asked. Wirt shook his head.

"Thirsty."

"Water isn't safe to drink here, I guess it is over on your side. Here, I have ale that should still be cool. My brother Walter just fetched it from the cellar maybe a hour ago." She reached around to Wirt's back and with surprising strength and propped him up a bit so he could drink before handing him the light tin tankard of ale. It took a good minute or two, but he managed to drain the tankard. He cleared his throat and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you Beatrice." He said with a clearer voice. "Can you help me sit up a bit more, please?" She obliged, leaning in close to him, and his cheeks warmed at what could have been the proximity of a beautiful girl or a bit of a head rush after lying down for who knows how long. Beatrice, anticipating his dizziness, grabbed another pillow to prop up behind him.

"Thanks…" He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to calm his dizzying head. When he opened them again he offered a shy smile to the round, freckled face in front of him. THIS was human Beatrice, huh? So close to him, he could see every freckle on her face, the regal shape of her nose, and the startling intense blue of her eyes, and he wondered if the flush rising to his face was just from the ale and effort of sitting up. "Beatrice, what happened?" At that question, her own little, shy smile faded into a frown of confusion.

"I was hoping you could tell me?" She sat next to his hip on the bed. "I was just taking a walk three nights ago and you just…stumbled into me, rambling about what Sara did and then what you did and how you were lost." She smoothed the blankets next to her. "You were a wreck, Wirt. I didn't see why you were so stumbly and rambly at first, but when we got you inside…you were bleeding from your head and your leg was all twisted and you were wet and shaking from the cold."

"Oh jeez…." Wirt groaned. "Beatrice, I'm sorry I…I didn't mean to cause any trouble for you. I'm…actually kind of confused how I got back here too, to be honest." He traced light gauzy bandages he hadn't noticed before from his forehead to the lump on the back of it. Beatrice shook her head, waving her hand casually.

"Hey, don't get all mopey on me. My brother Allard is a doctor, my dad got him over here to set your leg and he told me how to take care of you until you came around. And lookit this, you did!" She gestured to him as if him simply opening his eyes was a big accomplishment. "Do you need more medicine? I've been careful about not giving you too much, Allard says it's strong." She stood and headed back over to the table, fetching a glass bottle and a spoon.

"What is it?" Wirt asked jokingly. "Laudanum or something?"

Beatrice blinked at him. "…Yes." Wirt stared at her for a moment; that certainly explained the swirling memories of the past few days. He was about to refuse when a shooting pain ran up his leg and he clutched his knee, grunting.

"Maybe a little, don't wanna let the pain get ahead of me you know Beatrice give the the bottle I'm just gonna-" She cut him off with a spoon of bitter liquid slipping between his lips. Wirt breathed as evenly as possible until he felt the rush of the medicine spread through his system, and he leaned back to look at Beatrice again, thankful his vision wasn't blurry.

"Better?" She asked, cleaning the spoon off on her apron and placing it back on the table. Wirt nodded, fumbling his fingers a bit. He wanted to reach for her hand…so he did. She'd nursed him back to health after all, she certainly deserved the affection.

"Yeah, a lot. I…thank you, Beatrice." He caught her gaze, rubbing her fingers a bit with his thumb. "Thank you. Beatrice, I…it's been so long, I've really…" She clutched his fingers tighter. He'd missed her.

"Wirt?" She leaned in just a bit. "Me too. You…and now you're…it's really-" The door to the guest's bedroom swept open, Beatrice's mother Marianne entering with a tray of broth and bread.

"Is he-oh goodness, he is awake!" Beatrice's mother rushed over to the bed, placing the tray next to Wirt before feeling his head for fever. Wirt and Beatrice snatched their fingers away from one another as she did so.

"Mom, I think you met Wirt, right?" Beatrice asked, backing away from the bed a bit. "So…no need for introduction, I guess."

"No, not introduction. Though I do need to talk to you, young man." The woman wearing Beatrice's freckles gave him a wide smile. "But first, welcome to the homestead."

 **Chapter two! Hooray for alcohol (no advanced technology over the wall means no water to drink; many farms and homesteads, pretty much all of them, had their own breweries during these time periods and being isolated in the Unknown Beatrice's family would certainly have theirs) and tons of opiates, go 18th(/19th, since there's a mix of time periods over the Wall I figured Allard would have knowledge of laudanum and how to use it safely) century medicine!...Oh man, hang in there Wirt.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Next chapter, hope you all like!**

Beatrice's mother began moving very briskly, like she had had a plan upon Wirt's awakening. "Here, you can eat up while I talk. The sooner you get your strength back, the better. Just don't eat too fast, now." Marianne instructed, placing the tray on Wirt's lap. She turned to her daughter, "Beatrice dear, you should go wash up and rest awhile, you've been working day and night since Wirt's arrived. I'll take care of your friend while you're gone."

Beatrice hesitated. She didn't want to leave Wirt, but she was so tired it had been a struggle to stay awake and while she'd caught the occasional nap sitting at Wirt's bedside, that didn't compare to sleeping in a bed. Wirt offered her a weak smile, sensing her trepidation but also knowing she was dead on her feet from just looking at the poor girl. He felt awfully guilty she'd gone to this much trouble just for him...but they did have a pretty special bond. You can't go through an adventure like they had and not end up caring about your companions.

"Beatrice, it's ok. You've been working so hard, go get some rest." He encouraged. Beatrice visibly relaxed, sighing with relief. She still didn't want to leave Wirt but she needed to take care of herself, first. She would see him at dinner, besides.

"Thank you. I'll just be a few hours though, okay?" She paused; she'd wanted to give Wirt's hand a squeeze, a reflex that surprised her, but that would just put her mother off and would definitely kill any chances she had of being alone with Wirt again. "I'll um, I'll see you later." She gave an awkward little wave before a quick exit, rushing off to the bedroom she shared with her sisters.

Wirt drummed his fingers on the tray before sampling a little bit of bread. This situation felt…a bit awkward, at the very least. The last time he'd met this woman she'd shoved two spoonfuls of dirt into his mouth and they'd been in kind of a tense, rushed situation. Now he was her incapacitated (not to mention unexpected) guest. He wasn't really sure what to say. Apparently he was an open book, as the woman at his bedside gave a light laugh.

"Oh, don't be nervous, silly." Marianne patted his hand. "I just wanted to thank you. You saved my family. Beatrice told me you took the scissors from Adelaide and gave them to her, even after that awful misunderstanding. Not so many people would have been as kind or forgiving as that. You're a noble young man, Wirt." He'd been in mid-sip of the broth when she'd begun her speech, and now felt like dropping his spoon in shock. He'd been expecting an interrogation of some sort, not this. And he'd never thought of himself as noble. He had made so many mistakes along that journey; in the end he was just a guy who loved his little brother.

"I….Beatrice is my friend, and she never meant to hurt me or Greg. She was just trying to fix her mistake, and ended up making another one. It happens….I would know, heh. We all make mistakes. And just now, she didn't leave me until she knew I'd be okay, she rescued me from the woods three nights ago. Your daughter is…." oh man, he really had his pick of words here. "She's very noble too." Beatrice was the hero in his eyes. Yes, she'd almost sold them out, but before their brief goodbye she explained she hadn't known what Adelaide was planning and had offered herself up in their place. She had an unquestionably good heart, for someone so sarcastic and off-putting.

"Yes…" Marianne gave him a sly look. "And, you did something else for her, Wirt. You helped my little Bea learn how to open up. She's always had a mouth on her. She still does. But now….she uses it differently. She doesn't avoid people anymore, doesn't use those little vocal barbs to push others away. She smiles, she jokes, she pulls others in. She's never been so bold about her affections for others; she used to just call her younger siblings a menace and ignore her older siblings. Now, she writes her older siblings frequently and spends most of the day socializing with her younger sisters and brothers. You…you helped her shine. And I'm wondering how you managed to do that."

Needless to say, Wirt was even more surprised at this statement from his friend's mother. He hadn't...he hadn't done anything aside from bicker with Beatrice a bit and then spill his guts to her and become fast friends. She'd almost convinced him to stay in the Unknown...and he had flat out asked her to come home with him and Greg.

"I didn't do anything, Mrs. Bleu. I just…I was just looking out for her and Greg…Beatrice was a great friend to me." He reflected, taking a bigger bite of his bread. Marianne considered this.

"Well, whatever you did, your friendship's made Beatrice very happy and I'm very glad you're here, though I'm sorry for your injuries. I didn't know it was that difficult to cross over."

"It wasn't, last time. I'm not even really sure what happened this time." Last time he hadn't even known where they were until he realized they were lost. Something different clearly happened, and the laudanum was not helping him remember. Marianne patted his hand when she noted his concerned expression.

"Allard says you should have someone with you on constant watch to help you with whatever you need. You're not going to be able to use that leg for a few weeks. I'm sure Beatrice will insist on keeping you company, but my son Durwin will be helping you with….whatever Beatrice can't help you with." Wirt blushed at the implications.

"Um, yeah…I think a visit to the bathroom would be nice, after I'm done eating."

"Allard's set your leg, you'll have to be very careful not to move it." She gave him an affectionate pat on his cheek and smiled . "Eat up, now. I'll send Durwin up presently to help you with bathing and all that." Wirt wanted to bury his head in his bowl after she'd left the room; his face was burning with embarrassment. Well, this was going to be the most awkward introduction of all time. 'Oh hey, you're my friend's brother, cool. I'm gonna get naked and pee now, and you can sponge me off.' Yeah, Wirt would have really preferred to just burrow under the blankets and never come out again. But his stomach rumbled in protest. He ate at a steady pace, jumping a bit when he heard a knock at the door.

"Um…it's Durwin. Can I come in?" The deep voice asked a bit timidly. Wirt groaned.

"Yeah…." He set his tray of food aside and shifted so he was sitting up more. Durwin, a tall, broad-shouldered youth with a mop of curly red hair was glancing around the room, anywhere but at Wirt.

"Um, hello." Durwin greeted. "I'm here to help you…"

"Yeah…" Wirt reached an arm around Durwin's shoulders so they could make their way to the bathroom. "I'm just…ugh, this is so awkward. I'm sorry about this, man."

"I am too, to be honest." Durwin grumbled. "But um…we'll just be quick about it, yeah?"

"Yeah." Wirt agreed. "That would be best."  
…

"Bea." Beryl shook her sister. "Bea, it's been three hours and it's suppertime, Wirt's waiting for you."

"Wha-WHAT?" Beatrice shot up in bed, knocking Beryl aside and ignoring her sister's protesting squeak. "Beryl, I told you to give me time to get ready!"

"Well, Cherry and I were busy in the parlor, did you know there's a-"

"NO, and I don't care." Beatrice pushed past her sister to the closet, throwing off her brown dress for a clean, formal purple number and slipping it over her underclothes. She groaned as she realized the mess of tangles her red hair had become in her sleep, and settled for braiding it into a bun at the top of her head. Charity wandered into the room with Anna, both girls with the intent of preparing for supper. Lucinda, who was already ready and reading a book in the over, glanced up to watch Beatrice's rush to get ready.

"Aren't you just sitting in the guest room with him?" She asked.

"Duh." Beatrice pinned her bun on top of her head and looked for a ribbon.

"And…he'll just be in his pajama, won't he?" Charity asked. Beatrice let out an exasperated sigh.

"YES, Cherry. Now where are my black shoes, you had them last."

"By the dresser." Her sister answered, tugging on a clean dress of her own. "But Bea, if you'll just be in the guest room why are you so worried about looking nice?" The question seemed to stop Beatrice's whirlwind of activity in its tracks and all the sisters looked to the eldest for an answer to Charity's question.

"It…he…he's a hero, Cherry, remember? For goodness sake, there are ballads about him in the village. People should look nice for heroes, shut up and go to dinner I'll see you later." Beatrice rushed past her sisters to make her way to the guest room.

"She was a bit touchy." Lucinda observed, turning a page in her book.

"She just doesn't want anyone to know." Beryl said as she pulled on her shoes.

"Know what?" Anna asked. Beryl rolled her eyes.

"That she likes him. Duh."

 **I feel really bad for Wirt and Durwin but the guy's gotta get clean somehow with that broken leg there :/ The next chapter finally dives right into the awkward UST and emotional whatnot Beatrice and Wirt are trying to sort out, so get ready!**


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